


Disruptive Behaviour

by originally



Category: Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hidden Motives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-04-23 16:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19154500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originally/pseuds/originally
Summary: Sometimes enemies hide in plain sight.





	Disruptive Behaviour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masu_Trout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/gifts).



Talos leans his arm against the window, framing the city beyond in quilted fabric and synthetic skin. Útulek is a brutal, beautiful cage. It's not as though he hasn't seen slums like this before over the years, of course. With MSF, he was parachuted into active warzones, refugee camps, disaster areas. The difference now is that there’s no flight home.

There’s a glass in his other hand. He takes a swig, letting the whiskey coat his teeth before he swallows. He rests his forehead against his arm and closes his eyes.

The bombing at Růžička Station has brought several vague suspicions, several nagging sensations of doubt together at the forefront of his mind. The church, the other incidents the press have tried to pin on him, the ones he dismissed as yet more evidence of anti-Augmented sensationalism… His stomach roils at the thought that all those innocent people could have died at the hands of someone within ARC, someone he trusts. It doesn't bear thinking about. _And yet._

He takes another swig of whiskey.

At the chirp of the intercom, Talos takes a deep breath, urging his face into a semblance of dignity. His eyes flick over the camera feed, and the knot in his stomach loosens, just slightly. “Come.”

The doors part with a sound like a sigh and Talos watches their distorted reflection in the window as Viktor steps through.

“Talos,” he says, grief twisting his features. “My friend. I came as soon as I heard.”

Like Golem, Viktor is a mass of contradictions. He looks like a thug, but he chooses a stun gun as often as his fists. Despite his appearance, his sheer size, his augs designed for fighting rather than for peaceful revolution, he’s a surprisingly intelligent conversationalist, quick-witted and well-versed in history and politics. And his hands have always been gentle on Talos’s body.

Talos never intended to fall in love.

The doors slide shut, and Viktor crosses the room in three large strides to stand at Talos’s side. When his right hand settles on the small of Talos’s back, Talos leans into the touch, just for a moment, before pulling away to pace back to his desk.

“I need to send a message to our people. They must know that this wasn’t us. Viktor, we can’t show weakness now. That’s what they want.”

“They?”

“The people who did this.”

“Do you know who?” Viktor asks, surprise colouring his voice. “Tell me. I have contacts on the outside, let me deal with them for you.”

“I suspect. Nothing more,” Talos says. He pulls the keyboard forward and types his password, hesitating over how much more to say. Viktor is not a subtle man, and Talos's suspicions will require subtlety to deal with. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Talos—”

“Leave it, Viktor.” Talos picks up the glass again, and doesn’t look at Viktor’s face.

Viktor runs a large, metal finger across the back of Talos’s neck, making him shiver. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

With determination, Talos downs the last of the whiskey. “I’ve lived this long. I don’t intend to get myself killed now. If there’s nothing else, I’m afraid I have work to do.”

“As you wish,” Viktor says, after a long moment. Talos tracks the sound of his heavy footsteps even after the door is closed.

*

Viktor never usually wants to face him when they fuck. Self-hatred, Talos had thought, though whether that’s because they’re both men or both Augs he’s never quite been brave enough to ask. But tonight when he comes to Talos’s bed, he seems unable to tear his eyes away from Talos. His fingers are cool on Talos’s hips, broad and blunt where they bite into his flesh. His kisses are tinged with a strange intensity Talos can’t name, mouth hot and insistent against Talos’s, teeth just on the edge of painful on Talos’s lower lip. There’s lube slicking Talos’s thighs. Viktor’s hand traces the edges of Talos’s scar tissue on its way down towards his legs. The sensation is still strange, is always strange, the way touch on ordinary skin gives way to numbness and then the feedback from his implants.

And then Talos finds himself manhandled as easily as breathing. Viktor lifts him bodily and slams him against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him.

“Viktor—” Talos gasps, but Viktor catches his lips again in another charged kiss. Viktor’s cock slides hard and unmistakable between Talos’s thighs, brushing his balls and making him shiver and cry out. Viktor’s hand comes up to steady him, pressing hard against the line of Talos’s collar bone, where his metal parts meet the flesh. Talos wraps his legs around Viktor’s back and lets his head fall back against the wall, the movements of Viktor’s hips keeping him in motion, caught between solid steel and synthetic skin. He gasps a breath, and then the next comes a little harder. Viktor’s fingers tighten impossibly. Talos tries to cry out but he can’t catch his breath. His hands scrabble uselessly on Viktor’s back.

And then he’s released, breath flooding his lungs like the elixir of life, his feet back on solid ground.

“Fuck, sorry. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength,” Viktor says.

“No harm done,” Talos croaks, massaging his throat.

Something almost like pity seems to shine in Viktor's eye for a moment before it’s gone, so quickly that Talos can’t be certain of what he saw.

*

There’s a fresh bottle of whiskey on the desk, a tag around its neck with a scribbled apology. Talos smiles, and pours himself a glass.


End file.
